


Everything to Lose

by ZomgShaylex



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-29
Updated: 2010-05-29
Packaged: 2019-01-19 02:05:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12400887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZomgShaylex/pseuds/ZomgShaylex
Summary: Accompanied by the rain and a familiar face, he sits to think of all that's happened, both known and unknown.





	Everything to Lose

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

 

The thump of my feet had faded long ago from my ears, mixed with the hustle and bustle of London that I loved to be mixed up in. Only in these circumstances could I wander without even so much as a glance from passerby. However, I had one oversight in my plans of tranquility for the day: the weather. A rumble caught my ears, and I quickly zipped up my coat to prevent the complete ruin of my clothing. It would be futile in the end. The first drop hit, right next to my left foot, and I bent down to examine it. After touching the spot with my finger, I found it to be a bit colder than the surrounding pavement, and braced myself for the inevitable cold storm ahead.

 My steps, not even remotely hindered by the sudden downpour, carried me to the park not too far from my flat. A bench was placed unceremoniously beneath a tree. Perhaps in preparation for the awkward meetings that would take place there in the future.

 I sat, my hands stuffed in my pockets, and leaned back against the cold wood, wondering to myself how many lovers, marriages, and friendships had met their ends at this bench. I thumbed through my entire index of events and couldn’t recall anyone I knew breaking up at a park bench except… What a pitiful anecdote that would be over dinner. The thought brought a small upturn to the corners of my lips.

 It wasn’t a smile, heavens no. A smile would be far beyond my emotional capacity at the moment. The only things I felt were anger, guilt, and as pitiful as it was, sorrow. Again the sky rumbled, and I was reminded of just how appropriate the weather was for my wallowing.

 I took my hands out of my pockets, ready to smooth my soaked hair out my face and feel the rain a bit. It was indifferent yet fresh and the cleanest rain I had felt in a long time. For some reason, I was enjoying it. Yes, actually enjoying sitting in the rain in the middle of the park on what was most obviously the break-up bench.

 Pitiful.

 My lips upturned a bit more at that word. At least I was living up to everyone’s expectations. I didn’t strive for anything else. I was quite comfortable sitting in my own misery, watching everyone glare at me and sneer. Actually, come to think of it, I hadn’t seen anyone that would recognize me in well over two months, so I didn’t even enjoy that aspect. I had become the recluse, and I had no qualms.

 Adjusting my clothing a bit, I removed my coat and resolved to lie down on the bench. Once again, my thoughts travelled to the various experiences people had had at the bench, and I could only imagine. Most of the instances had probably involved marriage or some sort of commitment. Poor mates never saw it coming; once you hit 2 years, the girls automatically think marriage is the next step. Tosh pots. Marriage is NEVER a step. All the people who marry end up drinking away their misery or throwing flower pots at each other. Either way, no one comes out alive, emotionally that is. A couple glances around revealed not a soul in sight. Another small upturn at the lips. I was alone. Alone.

 The word repeated in my mind as I looked up at the sky when another rumble sounded. I usually didn’t care about my relationship status. Being alone meant not having to share the remote, or not having to pick a side of the bed. I could even walk around without showering for a couple days and no one would care. Not that I did, but it was the principle of the thing.

 The word left a bitter taste in my mouth, and I punched the sidewalk. A couple cracks could be heard as I winced and stared at the trickles of blood mixing with rainwater. It formed a pool of sorts, one that I wished would grow larger and larger until it swallowed me whole. When had I become so morbid? Getting swallowed up in pools of blood was serious business. I might need some help. On second thought, maybe all I needed was a good drink and some gauze. I rifled around in my coat pocket until my fingers wrapped around my wand. Sitting up and checking the surroundings one more time, I pulled it out and healed my knuckles as best I could. It already made a huge difference in pain, and that was all that mattered. Replacing my wand back in my pocket I looked up at the sky again.

 Alone. The word popped into my head at the most random moments, and once it was there, it wouldn’t leave me until I addressed it. How I could address it, though, was the question. My usual remedy for anything was the indulgence in the strongest alcohol at the nearest bar, but I resolved to sit on the break-up bench a bit longer to enjoy the rain. It was cleansing after all.

 Oh damn it to hell, I had turned into a sap.

 What kind of man sat alone in the park thinking about his woes underneath a rainstorm and called it cleansing? I mean seriously, no one did that unless they were in the movies. So, instead of sitting like I had been, I decided to sit someplace else. Taking one last look at where the pool of blood had been, I grabbed my coat and walked to the middle of the field. Mud squelched beneath me as I dropped down onto the ground and lay down. Maybe some lightning would strike me if I was lucky. I would need to stand up for a better chance at that, though, and I didn’t feel the least bit like moving. Instead, I stared up again.

 Except this time, I did not see a multitude of drops headed toward the ground or an angry gray sky. No, I saw the brown eyes of someone who seemed to be slightly worried. Stifling a gasp or yell or shriek (because heaven forbid a Malfoy be caught shrieking) I rolled over onto my stomach and buried my head in my arms, quite positive this simple move would influence whoever the hell it was to go away. Instead, I felt the very distinct vibrations of a person sitting down next to me. Peering up slightly, I caught sight of the girl who looked familiar staring up at the sky herself. She seemed to be enjoying the rain too, as odd as it was. Then again, why else would she be out in the middle of a field at the park unless she was here to enjoy the rain. Simply thinking she had come to look for me or some absurd idea like that sent a round of laughter up my throat. No, I wouldn’t have it. Especially in front of her.

 I turned over and caught sight of some very subdued, but familiar-looking curls and knew that I didn’t want to glimpse her face for fear of having a heart attack. I didn’t fear death, just dying in front of her. What the hell was she doing here? My vocal chords, having been used very rarely in the past couple months, felt like sandpaper as I opened my mouth to say something. However, like always, she beat me to the punch.

 “Lovely weather.”

 I honestly couldn’t tell whether it was meant to be sarcastic, so I sat for a moment to ponder, or rather laid. I had yet to sit up because I found lying on the grass (mud) to be quite comfortable.

 “You don’t have to say anything. I was honestly in the area and thought I would drop by the park. That bench… it’s been a while since I’ve been to it. I thought I would sit a while when it began to rain. Then I saw that you were already on it and figured I’d just go on my way.”

 She paused, taking a deep breath. Not from nervousness, never from nervousness, but perhaps to let the cool air settle in her lungs before she continued. I was still lying down.

 “You punched the sidewalk. I thought it was odd, but then you just stared at the puddle. I wasn’t quite sure whether to laugh or to be astounded. Then you just got up and walked over here. Before I knew it, my feet moved. I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. I guess I felt I needed to explain that I’m not here to curse you. I’m a mature adult, one that is capable of processing criticism.”

 Again, a deep breath. Gods, it had been such a long time since I had seen her chest rise and fall so deeply.

 “I hope I’m not being too forward, but I would like to thank you for saying those things. No one else apparently cared enough to say them, or… I guess I shouldn’t say ‘cared.’ More like, no one was brave enough to tell me all that to my face. I needed the wake up call.”

 She pulled her knees to her chest and let her chin rest on them. Still, I lay there, just gazing at the sky. I wasn’t sure what action my body wanted to complete first. I could vomit from the nerves coursing through my body, or jump for joy at the mere prospect of being able to turn my head and see her face, or I could stop breathing for the briefest of seconds as the surge of ‘maybes’ came to my mind. All those seemed like sure choices, but instead, my body picked hidden option d and decided to roll me back over onto my stomach and laugh hysterically. Not good.

 She tensed, “Well, I suppose I shall be going now. Enjoy your lay about and try not to catch pneumonia while you’re out here. It would be dreadfully awful of you to go dying after living through such a tragic war and all.” The bitterness and cruelty dripped off every word and formed a puddle around me, mingling with the mud.

 Her squelching footsteps grew fainter as I turned back over and stared at the sky again. Another rumble and this time, a flash of lightning. I glanced at my injured hand and scowled. The only thing I could think to do was pound it into the mud, hard.

 One sound escaped me: a soft chuckle. Such is life.

 


End file.
